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I looked up as Cian entered my office and stood just inside the door.

“I found something.”

“Need more information than that. Found something about what?”

Cian gave me a look that spoke of shame, or maybe embarrassment.

“I would like to point out that I would have found this much sooner had I been asked to look for it. Sal never asked me to look and neither did you, so I didn’t.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He moved further into the room and tossed a file onto my desk. Opening it up, I skimmed over the report.

I looked up at Cian, not sure I understood what I was seeing.

“Did you find this in one of the boxes?”

“No.”

“Then where the fuck did you find it?” I yelled, standing up behind my desk.

“Like I said, no one ever asked me to look. Given that Duane had found some information, I started digging on my own. That’s what I’ve found so far.”

“She changed her fuckin’ name?”

Cian nodded. Now I understood. Duane wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. So knowing that Duane likely found this information before him had to hurt. But he was right. No one had ever asked him to look.

“Gretchen Foster? That’s so plain.”

“Exactly what she was going for, I’m sure.”

My gaze snapped to my friend. He was right. Darcy wanted to hide. This was a way to hide. The eighties were a different time. There was no internet. No way to track someone down easily. You needed money and someone who could convince people to talk.

My older sister had run off to Arkansas with her boyfriend’s mother, had his child, and then changed her name and run even further. Leaving her child to be raised by his grandparents.

Why?

What the fuck had Tyran done that had her so scared?

“Anything else?”

“Not yet. Gretchen Foster is pretty common so there are a lot of names to go through. I tried looking in Ireland but haven’t tracked one down yet.”

“Keep searching. I’ll start going through Duane’s shit tomorrow.”

Cian left without a word, and I dropped back into my chair. Staring at the small amount of information Cian was able to find, I couldn’t help but wonder if my sister was still alive.

Was she out there somewhere looking over her shoulder? Did she know Eamon was dead and Sal had taken over? Was she more afraid of Sal than Eamon?

Or did she believe she had hidden well enough to have a life? Maybe she met someone. Got married. Had more children?

Where did you go, Darcy? Where are you now?

Chapter Three

Duncan

I hated New York.